


Isabela's Regret

by sheepsinthenight



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, F/F, Mid-Canon, Romance, wlw author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 10:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15993287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepsinthenight/pseuds/sheepsinthenight
Summary: Champion of Kirkwall. It rang in Hawke's ears as she darted into a Lowtown alley. She flew past familiar stalls that had been overturned or set ablaze in the fight against the qunari. Everywhere, people were yelling, caring for the wounded, grieving the dead. Too late to save the Viscount or his son. Too late to save her mother. As she skidded to a halt in front of the Hanged Man, Hawke hoped she wasn't too late to save one last person.--Considering the scale of Isabela's betrayal at a critical plot moment, in canon, Hawke lets her off pretty easy, I felt?? A re-imagining of the companion quest "Isabela's Regret" with lots more wlw energy and angst.





	Isabela's Regret

_Champion of Kirkwall._ It rang in Hawke's ears as she darted into a Lowtown alley. She flew past familiar stalls that had been overturned or set ablaze in the fight against the qunari. Everywhere, people were yelling, caring for the wounded, grieving the dead. To think she had believed she could prevent this - that the Arishok's regard for her might have forestalled this tragedy, mitigated any loss. Too late to save the Viscount or his son. Too late to save her mother. As she skidded to a halt in front of the Hanged Man, Hawke hoped she wasn't too late to save one last person.

Isabela was in her rented room, throwing clothes into a pack. She whirled around as Hawke entered, eyes narrowing. "Why are _you_ here?"

Hawke was breathless from running so she braced herself in the doorway. The room was a mess - candle stubs and clothes everywhere, bottles piling up in one corner. Hawke sputtered, "Why didn't you tell someone about the relic?"

Isabela reached out to take a swig from a half-finished pint on her nightstand. She set down the glass hard, wiped her mouth on her arm, and returned to her packing. "What's the point?"

"Preventing three years of mounting tension - "

"You said 'mounting,'" Isabela observed.

Hawke felt a wave of anger wash over her as she stepped into the room. "You are beyond _belief._ You childish, egocentric - "

"Egocentric?" Isabela let out an ugly laugh. She turned her back to Hawke and reached to tear a sea chart off the wall, leaving nails and scraps of paper-corners embedded in the wood. "You think you can fix every problem in Kirkwall. _That's_ egocentric. I just have a sense of self-preservation, which you obviously lack." She folded the map and shoved it into her pack, before scooping more papers off the floor and and beginning to flick through them.

"You must have some conscience or you wouldn't have come back," Hawke countered. "But why couldn't it have kicked in _before_ the qunari set the city on fire?"

Isabela tossed the papers onto the floor with a sound of disgust. She cinched the buckles that held the pack closed and grabbed her beer, took a long drink and slammed the empty glass on the table. Isabela's amber eyes met Hawke's for the first time since she'd entered. The ferocity and finality in them made Hawke's breath catch.

"Look, Isabela, I came here to talk - "

"There's nothing to talk about anymore! Don't you understand? Let me go." Isabela shouldered her pack. She reached down and picked up one of her swords which lay beside her bed. She sheathed it into the scabbard at her waist and bent down to retrieve the second.

Hawke took a few steps toward her, hand outstretched. "Isabela, please - "

In a flash, Isabela was standing with her sword point toward Hawke's chest. "Don't do this, Hawke."

Hawke froze as adrenaline surged through her. She barely restrained the impulse to draw her own weapons. A bittersweet feeling - two women with twin swords. It was one of the things that had first brought them together. Hawke lowered her hand slowly and did what she could to keep her tone level. "Kirkwall is my home. My sister is gone. My mother is gone. The city remains, barely. No thanks to you."

"Then let me go!" Isabela snarled. "Why didn't you just hand me over to the qunari?"

"Because - "

Isabela stood there: poised, powerful, beautiful. As she searched her face, Hawke realized suddenly that Isabela's makeup was smeared. Her brown cheeks were ruddy and tear-stained. Her sword arm was steady but her other hand was balled into a fist that shook at her side. Hawke's voice broke. "Because you're part of my home, too, you ass."

Isabela's face barely registered surprise. A small lift of her eyebrow, a widening of her eyes. But with a heavy sigh, she sheathed her sword and sat down on the bed.

Hawke felt her heart in her throat. She came around to the side of the bed and knelt down, face level with Isabela's. "The closest thing I have to a family is a band of insufferable friends who all hate each other, and you."

Hawke had never seen Isabela cry. It was quiet and resolute, and she still looked quite angry. The two of them were silent for a minute until Isabela found her voice. "I didn't want - "

"Whether you _wanted_ me to feel this way or not!"

"Do you understand that my life was at stake?"

"You think I wouldn't have protected you from Castillon?" Hawke snapped. "You think I wouldn't protect you from anyone who tried to hurt you - "

Isabela stood suddenly, leaving Hawke looking up at her. "I don't want you to protect me! I protect myself. I don't want anybody to worry about me or get hurt trying to help me. Especially not you." She turned to face the wall and crossed her arms. "You have much better things to do than stick your neck out for... someone like me."

Hawke stood and walked over, standing just behind her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"A thief," Isabela said lightly. "And now a traitor."

"That's true," Hawke conceded. "But much more than that."

Isabela's voice was soft. "It may have been the right thing, but it was also the dumb thing. I should have kept the relic and kept running."

"But you didn't. And you don't need to run now." Hawke reached out automatically, hesitated, then put her hand on Isabela's shoulder.

"Aveline will see me locked up. Or hanged. I don't know what I could possibly do to set things right. With the city. Or with... you."

"Help me protect Kirkwall."

Isabela turned around, looking incredulous. "What?"

Hawke spoke quickly and earnestly. "The past three years have been hell in Kirkwall. Cruel templars, vengeful mages, madmen on the loose. The next three years could be worse. Make up for what you've done by staying at my side and seeing all this through."

Isabela was silent for a long while, regarding her. Finally, she said, "I heard someone on the street say they made you Champion of Kirkwall. I suppose this sort of foolishness is why."

"I imagine my good looks didn't hurt, either."

"Bold to flirt with a traitor." Despite everything, a touch of Isabela's familiar smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm Champion, I'll do what I want." Despite everything, Hawke grinned.

"And what do you want, Champion of Kirkwall?"

"Stay with me in Hightown tonight?"

Isabela's smile turned sad. She reached out a hand to caress Hawke's cheek, a tender, too-familiar gesture. "I... can't do that." She sighed and lowered her hand, crossing her arms again. "Hawke, I'm not a romantic. I don't begin to understand you. I just need... space for awhile. There are things about me and things about Kirkwall that your love and goodwill alone won't cure." 

There was so much that was hard to say. Hawke's lingering question - _why didn't you tell someone about the relic?_ Was Isabela so thoughtless? So frightened? So convinced that no one else would ever fight on her behalf? Or just convinced that no one _should?_ And Hawke - for all her jokes and sarcasm, her sincerity was just as cutting. Too much loss between the two of them. No reason for hope, and yet here was Hawke with her offer, her plea. The silence stretched on as they regarded each other.

Finally, without breaking eye contact, Isabela shrugged off her pack and set it on the floor. She said quietly, "I'm sorry for what I did, Hawke. I will fight by your side, if you'll have me."

Hawke sagged with relief. "Welcome back, Isabela."

In an unexpected gesture, Isabela stepped forward and pulled Hawke into an embrace. It was quick but tight, and she barely heard the pirate murmur, "thank you" into her hair. When Isabela pulled away, her face was back to its usual sardonic smile. "You will _have_ me again, won't you?"

Hawke had to laugh. "Maker, I was hoping you'd say that."

"Might take some time before I'm up for it again."

"Take as long as you need," Hawke said diplomatically.

Isabela shrugged. "Or I might come see you tomorrow night, who knows?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Isabela made a face. "Don't be soppy." 

Hawke sighed. She took a deep breath to steady herself. "Just... lie low for a few days, alright? I'll talk to Aveline about you. And Knight Commander Meredith if I have to, although I'm not sure she knows about your involvement with the relic. I'll make sure she continues to not know."

Isabela nodded. "I'll make sure Varric knows where I am so you can find me when you need me."

What more could be said? Hawke was exhausted. She ached from the fight through the city, ached from the duel with the Arishok. And this talk with her friend, her... friend, had sapped the last of Hawke's reserves. She inclined her head, "Goodnight then, Isabela."

Her wrist was in Isabela's hand as the pirate pulled Hawke towards her. Their lips met with a shared sigh, and their kiss was soft. Hawke moved away first, but their faces stayed close. "I should go," she murmured.

Isabela said, "I suppose you should." She smiled. "Champion of Kirkwall."

Hawke stepped away and blew her a kiss. "And yours."

Isabela groaned. "Go, Hawke!"

"I hope I see you soon."

"I'm sure you will."

**Author's Note:**

> I literally played the end of Act 2 / beginning of Act 3 for the first time today and I wrote this in an evening because I had such strong feelings about how everything went down. My goal was to make it more dynamic and much gayer.


End file.
